The Loveseat
by La Nanita
Summary: A chance encounter with Luna Lovegood leads Ron to question his marriage to Hermione for the first time… Better than it sounds! R
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter. JK Rowling does.

**Summary:** A chance encounter leads Ron to question his marriage to Hermione for the first time…

**Author's Note:** I went furniture shopping with my mom the other day (my couch is in worse shape than Ron's) and I saw the saddest thing. Two people who obviously had dated in the past bumped into each other and they got to talking. Both the man and woman were very enthusiastic until the man's wife came up to ask "who's your friend?" Don't ask me why ('cause I don't know) but the idea of a Luna/Ron/Hermione fic popped into my mind and wouldn't pop out. So here it is.

_**The Loveseat**_

_Chapter One_

"Ron?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Could you come in here for moment?"

Sighing, Ron set down his toast and followed his wife's voice into their den.

"What is it?"

"Well I was just cleaning—"

"Cleaning?! It's Saturday!"

"Yes, I know that."

Ron shook his head and muttered something about how the room hadn't been dirty in the first place.

"Anyway, I was cleaning and I noticed something."

"What's that?"

"We need new furniture."

"Why? What's wrong with what we have?"

So saying, he turned to examine the sofa. The middle was sagging so much it actually touched the floor. He cocked his head fifteen degrees to the left, then to the right before turning back to his wife.

"Okay. I see your point."

And that was how Ron came to find himself shopping for couches on a Saturday afternoon. He had dutifully followed Hermione from shop to shop and given his opinion when asked, but every man had his limit and Ron was fast approaching his.

So when Hermione went off chatting excitedly with a woman about the pros and cons of Victorian furniture Ron decided to take a nap. He chose the manliest bed he could (the bed he selected was swathed with what Ron thought was a totally unreasonable amount of lilac lace but his exhaustion triumphed over his ego) and nodded off. He slept peacefully for a while but predictably, he was soon awakened. The wake-up call came, however, from the last person he'd expected.

"Ron? Ron Weasley?!"

Ron blearily opened his eyes. He was immediately confronted with a blur of bright blue eyes and bushy blonde hair. Frightened, Ron gave an undignified yelp and scrambled to the relative safety of other side of the bed. From his new perspective he could clearly make out the ethereal figure of Luna Lovegood.

"Luna? What are you doing here?"

**Author's Note: ** I have three things to say: Review. _Review.__**Review**_

Please and thank you,

La Nanita


	2. Chapter 2

Ron and Hermione.

Hermione and Ron.

You rarely hear one without the other these days. Their names had been said together so often they almost blended together, forming one word. A word that meant love, and loathing. Desire and disgust. Happiness and heartsickness.

Ron still remembered seventh year when they'd gotten together. He remembered how flustered he'd get when people they passed in the halls whispered behind their hands, "Oh, didn't you hear?" or "Have they finally gotten together then?" Looking back, it was probably worth it. Ron had liked Hermione for ages. Ever since first year she had either been by his side or on his mind. Everyone knew they were going to end up with each other. Destiny and all that. So Ron just went with the flow. Most of the time the mixed about as well as oil and water. But it's amazing what a little magic can do...Ron should have been over-joyed.

But he wasn't.

He wanted to be happy. He really did. But every time he thought about Hermione, a different face floated to the surface. A face with blond hair and big, bright, blue eyes.

Luna Lovegood. Wasn't she intriguing? With her child-like belief that everything is real until proven otherwise, her unique knack for "telling it like it is", and that blond hair...

A gentle hand on his arm nudged him out of his reverie. "You alright, Ron?" Hermione asked with concern. "What? Oh, yeah. I'm fine." He offered his wife of three years a small smile. She returned it. From behind lowered lashes she whispered,"You seemed like you were a million miles away." His smile widened as he replied, "Believe me, there's no where else I'd rather be." And even as he leaned to kiss Hermione, he wasn't sure that was true.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all licensed trademarks are the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. No profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

_**The Loveseat**_

_Chapter Three_

"Luna? What are you doing here?" Ron asked, pleasantly surprised.

"Hiding from wrackspurts." Luna replied matter-of-factly.

"Wrackspurts?" asked Ron, smiling.

"Yes. Wrackspurts. A whole bunch of them. I came in here to lose them. Why are you here?"

Ron hesitated before replying, "Shopping." In the excitement of seeing Luna for the first time in three years, he almost forgotten why he _was_ at a furniture store.

"For a bed?" Luna asked. "That one looks comfy." So saying, she flopped on to the bed beside him. She giggled, "feels comfy too. But I don't think lavender is your color."

Ron laughed, "No, me neither. How about that one over there?" He pointed to a bed covered in violently bright orange sheets. Luna shook her head and crinkled her nose. "Ugh, no! It would clash horribly with your hair." As she said so, she reached out with her fingers and twirled a lock of his hair.

Ron couldn't wipe the goofy grin off his face. Try as he might, his smile stayed firmly in place. He remembered, even in school, Luna had always had that effect on him. Any other girl in such close proximity, even his wife, Hermione, would have made him nervous, but with Luna he felt perfectly at ease.

Luna's hand dropped from his hair as she pointed excitedly to her latest find. Ron felt distinctly bereft, and barely stopped a pout from coming to his lips. Instead, he turned to look at the bed Luna had found. "What do you think of that one?" she asked.

Luna had pointed to a large, sturdy bed of cherry wood, with a gold duvet. It reminded him strongly of his Gryffindor days. "I like it," he said. "I like it a lot." He smiled down at Luna and she smiled back. They lay there for a few more blissful moments, until Hermione came around the corner. "Ron! There you are! I've been looking all over."

Ron leapt from the bed as if it had suddenly burned him and quickly made introductions. "Hermione, dear, you remember Luna, form school."

"Of course I do! Luna, what have you been up to since Hogwarts?

"Oh, you know, a little bit of this, a little bit of that." Luna responded amiably. "I'm looking into a job at the Quibbler."

"That's…wonderful, Luna!" Hermione said in a voice that had to sound fake even to her.

Ron was filled with wonder at the women at his sides. Both of their large, face-splitting smiles, were totally fake, it was clear that neither liked the other at all, and there they stood, exchanging pleasantries. Ron mentally shrugged. It was probably just another mad thing about women that blokes like him would never understand.

At this point, Hermione placed her left hand on Ron's chest and wiggled her fingers so that the ring flashed in the light. Luna gasped, "Is that what I think it is?" Hermione nodded. "Oh, congratulations!" It might've been Ron's imagination, but he thought Luna wasn't very enthusiastic. "How long?" Luna asked.

"Since graduation." Hermione answered proudly.

"Wow! That's great Luna said, with notably less gusto. "But I better be on my way. It's been nice seeing you again. Ron. Hermione." Luna nodded to each in turn before she turned and walked away, throwing a small wave over her shoulder. Ron returned the gesture even as Hermione whisked him away in the other direction.

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**Author's Note:** This chapter is for **Jessica** and **the-black-pearl-lives**, the only readers who liked this story enough to review it! Thank you so much!

Read and Review,

La Nanita


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Don't own.

**Previous Chapter: **

"_I better be on my way. It's been nice seeing you again. Ron. Hermione." Luna nodded to each in turn before she turned and walked away, throwing a small wave over her shoulder. Ron returned the gesture even as Hermione whisked him away in the other direction._

_**The Loveseat**_

_Chapter Four_

Hermione smiled as she re-straightened the last throw pillow on their new couch before calling over her shoulder, "Ron? Can you come in here?" She couldn't wait to see the look on his face!

From their bedroom, Hermione heard Ron groan. "No."

Hermione gave a small, exasperated sigh. "I've got a surprise for you!" she said brightly.

From his bed, Ron grinned. _A surprise, eh?_ As Ron jumped out of bed, he cast aside the edition of Quidditch Quarterly he'd been reading and all but ran out the door. He took the stairs two at a time, and nearly ran over Hermione, who had come out to meet him in the hall.

Hermione almost laughed at Ron's eagerness. "Close your eyes," she commanded with a playful grin. Ron did as he was told, and allowed himself to be lead by the hand to the den, smile growing by the second.

Hermione led him through the threshold and told him he could open his eyes.

Ron's face fell like a newborn giraffe.

He looked left. Then right. He even looked up and down for good measure, but he didn't see anything that even remotely resembled a "surprise."

He turned to Hermione and told her so. She gazed back at him incredulously as if wondering how anyone could be so dense. "Nothing?" she asked. Ron shook his head. "Nothing at all out of the ordinary?" Hermione looked at her husband as if he'd gone insane, and Ron gave her the exact same look. "No." Ron replied, slowly, as if speaking to a temperamental toddler.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she crossed the room and flopped on to their brand-new couch. "How about now?"

Hermione smiled as she watched realization finally cross Ron's face. He smiled like a student who just solved a difficult math problem and said, "You got a hair cut!"

Hermione threw up her hands in frustration. "The couch!" she growled, "I bought a new couch!" Ron re-examined the couch with narrow eyes. For the life of him, he couldn't tell the difference between the couch Hermione now lay on, and the one that had sat there a few hours ago. "But it looks exactly like the _old_ couch." Ron said, trying to make Hermione see reason.

As if the statement had personally offended her, Hermione launched into a monologue about the differences of the furniture that Ron only half-heard. He tuned in in time to hear, "So you don't like it?"

In monotone, Ron replied, "Of course I like it dear."

"You hate it don't you?" Hermione asked.

Ron grimaced, "A little bit."

Ron easily caught the pillow his wife hurled at his head. He smiled, "I know they're called throw-pillows, but I don't think that's what they had in mind."

Hermione laughed, despite herself. Ron was always making her grin when she wanted more than anything to glare. Then Ron asked _the question_. "So how much was it anyway? A hundred galleons?" Hermione bit her lip and slowly shook her head.

"Two hundred?" Ron asked, anxiously. Hermione shook her head again. "Four hundred." Ron said, as though numbers couldn't possibly go any higher. Hermione shook her head a third time. "How much?" Ron asked hysterically.

Hermione closed her eyes, and braced herself for the explosion. "A thousand."

"WHAT?!" Ron exclaimed. One of Hermione's decorative vases shot off of its table and crashed into the opposite wall. Ron's knees buckled, and he fell, unceremoniously onto the couch. Hermione crossed her arms defiantly. "You heard me." She understood that Ron had money troubles as a child, but honestly, with both of them holding steady jobs at the ministry, she didn't see anything wrong with a little…indulgence every once in a while. Ron on the other hand, did.

"A thou-...thousand…" Ron sputtered, hand clutching his heart. "But, _why_?"

"Why _not_?"

Hermione harrumphed and strode from the room with her head held high. Ron shook his head disbelievingly and followed her retreating back. In his head, he was already composing an apology. In the back of his mind, some rebellious part of him wondered, _Why is it that whenever we disagree_, I'm_ always wrong?_

_Because, _Ron answered himself as he always did, _she's her and I'm me, and that's just the way it works._ This voice sounded suspiciously like Hermione, and Ron tucked the thought away to examine at leisure.

His internal battle was interrupted at that point by a light owl with wide, blue eyes rapping sharply at the kitchen window. In three strides, Ron was across the hall, letting the owl in. It looked very like…Luna, his mind supplied. Uncannily like her…

When Ron opened the window, the owl (not quite white and not quite cream-colored) gracefully swooped down and landed on the dining table. Ron relieved it of its letter, but it still sat there, staring up at him with its bright blue eyes that so reminded him of Luna.

"You want a reply, yea?"

The owl hooted its approval, and Ron quickly slit open the letter and read: 

_Ron,_

_It was so nice running in to you today! It's been too long. I missed you, and I'm curious to know what you've been up to. If you want to catch up, meet me at the Three Broomsticks on Friday at around 12 o'clock. Send a reply back with Selyna._

_Hope to see you there,_

_Luna_

_P.S. You can bring Hermione if you want._

Ron looked over both shoulders before hastily flipping the note over and summoning a quill. On the back he wrote:

_I'll be there._

Ron bound the letter to the owl's leg, took Selyna to the window, and let her take off. As Ron watched the owl vanish into the horizon, he contemplated how he was going to tell Hermione, even though in his heart of hearts, he knew he wouldn't.

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Author's Note: So there it is. I was suddenly struck by inspiration and here's the result. Please, _Please,__** Please**_ tell me what you think!

Review! The lil' blue button is calling you!

Peace, Love, and Pickles,

La Nanita


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I. Don't. Own.

**Author's Note:**It's been WAY too long since I updated! I give you this long chapter and beg forgiveness.

_Chapter Five_

Ron felt as if someone bewitched the clocks to go half-speed, but eventually, Friday rolled around.

Ron smiled as he signed the last piece of paper on his desk with a flourish and placed it reverently atop his "Out" pile. He checked his watch: it was ten 'til noon. _Right on tim_e. Ron smiled again. He called over his shoulder to his secretary, "Sarah? I'm taking my break now."

"Alright, see you in an hour, Mr. Weasley." Sarah replied. Upon being addressed as "Mr. Weasley" Ron smiled childishly (having his own personal secretary was one of his favorite perks). Ron shrugged into his jacket and was half-way out of his office (coughcubiclecough) when he nearly ran head-long into his wife.

"Oh, good you're ready." Hermione said mildly.

"Hermione," Ron began, "I didn't tell you? I have plans today."

"What do you mean 'plans'?" Hermione asked, "We always do lunch with Ginny and Harry on Fridays," she said with the air of one handling a confused toddler.

"Exactly," Ron said, "So you guys won't miss me just this once."

Hermione saw what he was trying to do and gave him "a look".

Before his wife could say anything, however, Ron quickly kissed her cheek and said, "I'll make it up to you, yeah?"

Hermione sighed, "Alright."

Hermione stood on tip-toe for another kiss but Ron had already left, walking briskly toward a Floo-fireplace.

Hermione watched Ron go for a moment, before slowly turning and walking the other direction.

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Luna sat nervously at a booth in the Three Broomsticks. She checked her watch for the sixth time and sighed, she still had at least ten more minutes to wait until Ron showed up. She wondered why she was even going through with this. The smaller, more reasonable part of her said it was because she just wanted to catch up. The rest of her thought it might have something to do with the warm feeling in her stomach whenever he was around… Luna immediately scolded herself. It wouldn't do to act like a school girl with a crush! Things were different now; Ron was married for Merlin's sake!

Luna wasn't going to pretend that wasn't a blow. Although, looking back, she shouldn't have been surprised. He and Hermione had always had a thing for each other. Best friends since first year and all. No doubt about it, they had something special, the kind of connection couples everywhere would kill for. A tiny voice inside Luna pointed out that she had felt a connection very similar that day in the furniture store…

Luna cleared her head of such thoughts and checked her watch for the seventh time: It was exactly twelve o'clock! She anxiously craned her neck to see if Ron had arrived, at just that moment, he came around the corner. He didn't look very happy she noticed. Not sad, exactly. His face just seemed…troubled? She watched him scan the room quickly, and then quite suddenly, his blue eyes met hers. Luna's stomach did an excited flip-flop. After an eternal moment, Ron face split in a smile and his long legs carried him to where Luna sat.

Luna rose from her seat to greet Ron. Then she froze. What should she do? Shake his hand? Hug him? Ravish him against a wall? Luna barely had time to scold herself again before Ron reached her and pulled her into a hug.

Luna felt comforting warmth seep into her at the same time as a shiver raced down her spine. It was a feeling Luna thought she could definitely get used to. In their embrace, Luna turned to grin at Ron her returned the smile sheepishly. Luna wondered if Ron had felt what she had. They both dropped their arms and took their seats.

After they exchanged pleasantries, there was an awkward lull in conversation. Ron filled it by recounting the story of Hermione's Couch.

"Oh, so you _did_ get a couch then?"

"No, no, no. This wasn't just any couch. This was a thousand-galleon couch."

"Oh. Wow! Well it must look very nice."

"But it doesn't! It looks exactly like the one we had before!"

"Oh no! Really?" Luna asked dismayed on Ron's behalf.

"Really," Ron said. "Hermione says its "vintage".

"Oh? And what do you say it is?"

"Old."

Luna laughed. It was a beautiful sound. Bright and golden and wonderful. In a moment of child-like folly, Ron thought that he would spend the rest of his life telling corny jokes if he could just hear that laugh again.

At that point, Tom came to take their orders. After he had left, Ron asked, "So, what have you been up to since the furniture shop?"

"Well," Luna replied, "I took the job at the Quibbler."

"That's great!"

Luna struggled to be modest but Ron's approval meant a lot to her. "It's not very glamorous, I'm just doing freelance right now, but I'm going to try to work my way up."

"Cool," Ron said with a smile. "Do you have any stories yet?"

"Actually, I'm looking into some reported sightings of an Empusa gang."

"An Empusa gang?" Ron repeated, amused. Luna hadn't changed a bit.

"Yes, my sources say that a group of them have been jumping travelers."

"That's horrible!" Ron said, smiling.

Luna must not have caught the sarcasm because she continued, "Oh, it is! They can take the form of a beautiful woman or a cow so they're extremely difficult to catch."

Then, their food arrived and during their meal, they discussed old Hogwarts friends, politics, and Quidditch standings. Ron was having such a good time that he totally lost track of time. When he finally checked his watch, it was already half past one.

Ron jumped to his feet, eyes wide. "I'm so sorry Luna! I'm running really late! I have to get back to work!"

Luna glanced at her own watch, "Oh, that's alright, I should probably be getting back too."

Ron placed a few galleons on the table to cover their meal and then walked out of the Leaky Cauldron with Luna at his side. Once they were outside, there was another awkward silence. Neither knew how to say goodbye—neither wanted to for that matter.

"Erm…well…goodbye." Ron said lamely. This time, Luna initiated the hug, standing on tip-toe to accommodate their height difference. Ron returned it immediately. When they pulled apart, Luna said timidly, "We should…do this again sometime?" It came out more of a question than a suggestion. "Definitely!" Ron said. "But right now I _really_ need to go."

"Oh, okay then. Bye," Luna said with a small wave. "Bye." With that, Ron spun on the spot and Apparated away. Luna gazed at the spot where Ron had disappeared a moment longer before she, too, turned on her heel and vanished.

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**Author's Note:** Review! This story doesn't get updated until I get at least three.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** Don't own.

**Previous Chapter**"Oh, okay then. Bye," Luna said with a small wave. "Bye." With that, Ron spun on the spot and Apparated away. Luna gazed at the spot where Ron had disappeared a moment longer before she, too, turned on her heel and vanished.

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_**The Loveseat**_

**Chapter Six:** In Which Not Much Happens

Ron snuck silently into his office (coughcubiclecough) intending to slip in quietly and pretend he'd been there the whole time. His plans were ruined when he found Sarah, his secretary, seated at his desk shuffling through papers. Sarah arched an eyebrow and said, "You're late Mr. Weasley," without looking up. Ron stopped in tracks, miffed to be caught sneaking into his own office. Sarah looked up, smiling, "Don't worry, I covered for you.

Ron breathed a sigh of relief, "Did you? Thanks for that."

"Don't mention it," his secretary replied, rising from Ron's chair. "The boss came by, though…"

Ron's eyes widened, "He did? What'd he want?"

"He said he had a meeting with you today? And he dropped these off," Sarah said, dumping a sizeable stack of papers into his arms. "He said he wants to see you right away." That said, Sarah turned the corner and disappeared into her office.

Ron would have smacked a hand to his forehead, had he not been carrying the armload of papers. The meeting today! How had he forgotten? A small voice told him that spending time with Luna probably had something to do with his sudden forgetfulness. Ron silenced this voice as he speed-walked down the hall, took a left, and approached The Head of Magical Games and Sports' Office.

For a moment, Ron struggled awkwardly with the papers trying to free a hand so he could knock on the door, but then he heard the boss say, "Come in," and the doors opened on their own. Ron strode nervously into the large office. The Boss was seated in his huge dragon hide chair, facing away from him. Feebly, Ron said, "Boss? You wanted to see me?"

Slowly, the chair revolved to reveal one smiling Harry Potter. "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me "boss"?" he asked exasperatedly. Ron grinned as Harry continued. "It makes me feel old. And we're _Co_-Heads anyway." Harry smiled and gestured for Ron to take a seat. Ron did so and started busily shuffling through the huge stacks of papers, eyebrows furrowed. "Why weren't you at lunch today?" Harry asked, totally disregarding the paperwork.

"I _was _at lunch," Ron replied, "Just not with you." Then he quickly went on, "I knew we had to get a sponsor for the Cannon's match, but since when has there been a celebrity commentator?" Harry swiftly cut across him, "If you weren't with us, then who _were_ you with?" Still staring avidly down at his papers, Ron took a deep breath. He could actually _feel_ Harry's eyes boring into his skull, but he took his sweet time straightening the stack of paperwork before he finally met Harry's eye. Slowly, deliberately, Ron replied, "I was with a friend."

Ron could tell Harry wanted to press the subject, probably at Hermione's request, but he gave Harry a look that brooked no argument. Ron stared him down for an interminable moment, then Harry's gaze fell to the paperwork. "One of the interns thought it would boost publicity if we had someone like Lee Jordan commentate." Harry had dropped the subject---for now. Ron was sure it would come up again. As Ron bent over to read through the paperwork with Harry, he was just happy for the reprieve.

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A few hours later, Ron was still poring over the papers at his desk at home. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. It was amazing how much paperwork the smallest of things could merit, even in the Wizarding world. Ron glanced at the clock, it was nearly 8. That meant he'd been reading for over an hour straight. "Time for a break," Ron muttered to himself and made the short walk to the kitchen to fix a sandwich. He had just finished when Hermione came through the door. She hung her coat and turned to greet her husband. "Hey."

"Hey." Ron replied, cutting his sandwich in two. "Don't eat that!" Hermione snapped. Then her demeanor softened "I'm cooking a nice dinner to make up for the lunch you missed." She smiled and gestured to the bags of grocery that had floated across the room and were emptying themselves on the kitchen counter.

"Oh, that's thoughtful of you, dear. But I'm swamped with paperwork tonight and I've really got to work some more." Ron apologetically gestured to the haphazard mess of papers completely covering his desk. "I'm so sorry."

Hermione bravely attempted a smile. "It's okay, I understand." But Ron had known his wife long enough to know she wasn't okay at all.

"Bloody paperwork." Ron muttered as a means of consolation.

Hermione smiled and shook her head, "It's fine really. Just promise you won't stay up late again."

"Cross my heart and hope to die." Ron said, mock-solemnly. This time the smile reached her eyes. Ron returned it and walked back to his desk, sandwich in hand. Slowly, the smile slipped off Hermione's face as she turned and began to put away the groceries.

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**Author's Note: **I know guys, astoundingly little plot development. I Promise I'll do better next chapter. Reviews always sweeten the deal. (nudgenudge winkwink)

Thank you as always for reading and reviewing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own it…

**Author's Note:** I'm really sorry about the delay, I have no excuse.

**Previous Chapter:**

_"Bloody paperwork."__ Ron muttered as a means of consolation._

_Hermione smiled and shook her head, "It's fine really. Just promise you won't stay up late again."_

_"Cross my heart and hope to die." Ron said, mock-solemnly. This time the smile reached her eyes. Ron returned it and walked back to his desk, sandwich in hand. Slowly, the smile slipped off Hermione's face as she turned and began to put away the groceries._

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_In Which Even Less Happens Than Last Chapter_

Ron walked down a hallway that eerily resembled a Hogwarts corridor and the hall in his house, though he knew it was neither. He didn't know where he was or why, only that he had to keep walking, and that was fine with him.

Ron would have been content to walk with nothing but his thoughts for company for quite a while longer, but he suddenly ran out of hall. Ron stood stock still, facing three doors that seemed to stare back at him. The first door was an endearing shade of Gryffindor-red. On it was a gold plate that said in big, blocky letters: HERMIONE.

Ron blankly surveyed the red door for a moment before his gaze slid to the next. This second door was an impossibly light shade of blue. In wispy, curling letters, the plate on the door read: Luna. Ron gazed at this door perhaps a moment longer than the first before his eyes fell on the last door.

It was undecorated and plain, but somehow seemed more important and **real** than the other two. A deepest shade of black, it commanded the all-white hallway and though there was no name-plate on this door, Ron stared at it for the longest of the three.

Until this point, Ron had a purpose: to walk. Now, he knew he needed to choose a door, but for the life of him, he couldn't decide which. Ron took half a step toward the "Hermione" door, hesitated, made a movement to the "Luna" door, frowned, and then contemplated the black door for a long time. Before Ron could make a choice (it would have been a while anyway) a fourth door appeared that piqued his curiosity. It was emerald-green and labeled "Harry". Ron arched an eyebrow and headed for the green door. He hesitated for half a second before turning the knob and opening the door…

Inside was a cozy, green-walled room with a large, Gryffindor style four-poster in the center. On this bed lay a half clothed Harry Potter. When Harry heard the door open, he started and sat up. "Get out of here perv! This is Ginny's door!" Ron backed out of the room and banged the door shut. For a few horrific moments, Ron tried to shake the images and their implications out of his head. He failed.

When he had mostly recovered (he'd probably never be the same) he stood and faced the doors again. After a few moments of thought, he cautiously approached the "Hermione" door. Ron turned the handle, and opened the door a crack. What he saw brought a smile to his face and a tear to his eye.

He saw himself, and Hermione sitting on their old couch, talking. As he watched, Hermione moved closer and placed her hand on his. Ron saw himself smile and lean in for a kiss. He gently closed the red door.

Ron stood still for a moment before opening the next door, marked "Luna". When the door swung open, he was not too surprised to find himself looking into a furniture store, the very furniture store he'd met Luna in not too long ago…From his vantage point, he could clearly see he and Luna sitting on the large oak bed Luna had liked, catching up and pointing out furniture. A small smile graced Ron's lips before he closed the blue door too.

Now, Ron progressed to the only door he hadn't opened: the black one. It stood a good foot higher than any of the others and, though it was old and plain, commanded respect…if a door could do that. There was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary about the gold door knob. It was tarnished and worn. It might have been Ron's eyes playing tricks on him, but he thought he caught a golden glow just under the surface. But it was only there for a second and then it was gone.

With an air of apprehension, Ron grasped the door knob, turned it, and pushed the door open. The last thing Ron remembered was an ominous creaking as he took a step forward, and fell through the darkness…

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At his desk, Ron Weasley sat bolt upright. It took him nearly a minute to realize he had fallen asleep filling out paper work and not fallen into the abyss. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair muttering, "That was some dream…."

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**Author's Note: **So yea, there's the obligatory "Dream" chapter. You shouldn't have to ask Trelawney to figure out what it means. : )

Review! Whether it's to tell me you're infatuated with my story or that you printed it out to wipe your butt with it: JUST REVIEW!


	8. Chapter 8

_**The Loveseat**_

**Disclaimer: **Harry and Co. are the slaves of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. I am the slave of Harry and Co.

**Previous Chapter:**_At__ his desk, Ron __Weasley__ sat bolt upright. It took him nearly a minute to realize he had fallen asleep filling out paper work and not fallen into the abyss. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair muttering, "That was some dream…."_

_Chapter Eight_

After Ron awoke from his dream (a dream that was fast slipping from his memory) he eyed the stack of paper work, gave it up for a bad job, and headed to bed. He slunk quietly down the hall, stopping at his bedroom door. Ron winced when it creaked loudly, causing Hermione to stir briefly. Ron took care to shut the door softly and tip-toed across the floor to their bed. Ron attempted to float onto the bed like a piece of paper, so as not to wake his wife, but Ron's lanky frame had never been capable of something as graceful as floating. He ended up flopping onto the bed and jolting Hermione awake.

She reacted wicked fast; between one moment and the next, Hermione had drawn her wand (from Merlin knows where) lighted it, and had it aimed at Ron's head.

"Don't shoot!" Ron exclaimed, hands held up in front of his face. He was shocked and bemused, but not genuinely surprised. Hermione had always been a fighter. A half-smile came to his lips as he remembered their Hogwarts days; whenever pure nerve (Harry) or sarcastic wit (Ron) had failed them, Hermione's quick-thinking saved the day.

Hermione, in the meantime, had extinguished and put away her wand with a muttered, "Well, then don't sneak up on me," and now lay facing Ron.

"You promised you wouldn't stay up late," Hermione said with none of her usual bite. Hermione was less her acutely aware and insightful self very late at night, a fact Ron was aware of and had exploited on several occasions. Ron didn't think it was unfair as he was _never_ aware and insightful. _Marriage has no rulebook_ he thought, _you have to write it as you go._

"Yea, but that paper work was beastly," Ron replied.

Hermione nodded in a half-attentive, sleepy kind of way before rolling onto her side, away from Ron. Moments later she was snoring lightly(something she'd never admit to). Ron smiled slightly at what little of Hermione that wasn't swathed in blankets. It was at times like this that Ron would remind himself that he was a lucky man. This was one of the first times he doubted it.

Ron shook his head slightly, as if to shake the disturbing thought from his head, and shifted onto his back. As he stared up at the ceiling, he heaved a great sigh. The last thing Ron thought before he joined he joined his wife in sleep (his alarm later woke him up what he thought was far too early) _was 'Today was a _long_ day.' _

And it was. So was the day after that…and after that…

Needless to say, by the time Saturday rolled around, all Ron wanted to do was pass out on the "vintage" couch in front of the T.V. Hermione of course had different plans. And, as it turns out, so did Luna…

"Hermione!" Ron groaned, stretching his wife's name to about eight syllables.

"Oh, stop whining Ron! It'll be fun!"

"Hermione, I've worked hard all week, I'm exhausted, and _**I don't **__**wanna**__" Ron declared. Those last three words came out rather like rather like a toddler that wasn't getting his way, to Ron's chagrin._

Hermione plowed right on with her argument, her husband's bouts of immaturity were nothing new to her.

"Come on!" she said, dropping onto the couch next to Ron and pulling down the blanket he'd childishly yanked over his head. "We can go shopping in France, stroll down the Champs D'Elysee. Then we'll stop by Italy for dinner. We can have pizza!" she added, taunting Ron with one of his favorite dishes.

Ron plaintively turned down the bait saying, "It sounds really fun…" Hermione beamed. "But I'm really, _really_ tired." Hermione's grin disappeared. "Look, take my Gringotts card and have fun, okay?"

"I already promised you'd go!" Hermione appealed.

"Well, it looks like you'll have to break your promise, doesn't it?"

Hermione almost screeched, "It's been ages since we've done anything together, even longer since done anything with Harry and Ginny!" Her voice softened as she added, "Why are you avoiding us?" In her head she added, _Why__ are you avoiding _me

Ron shifted on the couch, so he was turned away from her and muttered, "I'm just tired."

After a moment, Hermione stood up and stomped furiously from the room (although she did make sure to grab Ron's Gringotts card) and slammed the door behind her. Ron winced when he heard the faint pop of her Apparating away, but no one saw the tears in her eyes.

Ron replayed the fight in his head. From his perspective, it was really nobody's fault, but of course Ron was bound to end up apologizing. He toyed with the idea of surprising Hermione and meeting them at the Arc D'Triumph, but the comfort of the couch proved too alluring…

Ron could have quite easily slumbered through the rest of the day, but his sleep was disturbed by an insistent pecking at his fingers. Ron's eyes flew open and he uttered a surprised, pained cry. Looming in the front of his vision, to close to be in focus, was a large white bird. A moment later, he realized it was Selyna again. Ron relieved her of the letter she was carrying, gave her an owl treat and sent her on her way, smiling all the while. Suddenly, he felt awake and refreshed. Only after Selyna had disappeared into the horizon did Ron turn his attention to the letter.

Written on the outside was a single word: "Ron".

Ron wondered how just seeing his name written in Luna's handwriting could make him grin like a love-sick teenager, then decided he didn't want to know. He opened the note and read:

Hey,

I'm free tonight and I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite to eat or something, but only if you're not busy. Just let me know what's up,

Luna

Below was her address. Ron smiled to himself and glanced at the clock which declared it was half past seven. Ron figured it would be a few hours yet before Hermione would be back. A moment later, he was off, speeding down the hall to shower and get dressed up. Little did he know, miles away, Luna was doing the same, hoping against hope that Ron would show up.

**Author's Note:** This is just the first part of an incredibly long writing binge. The rest will be posted tomorrow unless of course some reviews are thrown into the bargain…


	9. Chapter 9

_**The Loveseat**_

**Author's Note:** I didn't want to post this so soon…but here it is.

**Disclaimer: **Yes, between the last time I posted and now I bought Harry Potter.

**Previous Chapter:** _Ron smiled to himself and glanced at the clock which declared it was half past seven. Ron figured it would be a few hours yet before Hermione would be back. A moment later, he was off, speeding down the hall to shower and get dressed up. Little did he know, miles away, Luna was doing the same, hoping against hope that Ron would show up._

_Chapter Nine_

At eight o'clock, Ron was fully clad in a dress shirt, nice jeans, and docs. (He'd gone back and forth between jeans and slacks but eventually decided on the former.) Now he ran a hand through his hair, messing up his meticulous combing, and glanced around for anything he might've forgotten to do.

Shave: check.

Teeth brushed: check.

Cologne: check.

Ron nodded to himself, satisfied. He was down the hall with a hand on the door knob before he turned back and grabbed a bottle of wine from a cupboard. It was in fact, the same bottle Hermione had bought for her special dinner with Ron that never was. Ron took a final glance at Luna's letter to be absolutely sure of her address, although he had already committed it to memory. He tucked the note into his pocket and, wine in hand, Apparated away.

-.-.-.-.-

Luna was just putting the final touches on her outfit (ya gotta love magic; your accessories always match!) when her doorbell rang. Luna nearly ripped her earring through her ear when she jumped in surprise. _He was here! And so soon! _Luna gave her reflection a once-over.

Make up: check.

Teeth brushed: check.

Perfume: check.

Luna refrained from squealing in delight (barely, and with and embarrassing amount of effort) as she dashed down the hall to let Ron in.

On the other side of the door, Ron stood with the bottle of wine behind his back when, out of nowhere, he thought he should have flowers. He held a brief and furious mental argument with himself before conjuring a garish bouquet of daisies. He wrinkled his nose, vanished the daisies, and tried again. A bunch of tulips appeared in his hand. Better, but not quite right. Ron finally decided on a single red rose, just as Luna swung the door open.

The last time they had met, they'd been dressed in their work robes, and the time before that, casual Saturday garb. So, now as they stood before each other, dressed for what neither could describe as anything but a date, they both took a moment to look the other up and down. Luna appreciating Ron's long legs and blue eyes, Ron taking in Luna's killer curves. She was tonight dressed in a flowing blue blouse that was so totally _Luna_. A pair of tight dark jeans and blue heels completed her outfit. Ron chuckled internally as his eyes fell upon her ever-present Gurdyroot earrings and bottle-cap necklace. Funnily enough, the thought running through both of their minds was, "You clean up _**good**_."

-.-.-.-.-

The moment dragged on, but before it could become a full-fledged awkward silence, Luna said rather lamely, "You're here."

"Uhm…yea." Ron responded, equally lamely. "And…I-I brought…" He spread his arms to show the wine in one hand and rose in the other. "For you…" he mumbled, holding out the flower. Luna grasped it carefully, closed her eyes, and took in its scent. "It's beautiful," she declared opening her eyes. Then, "Where are my manners? Come in, come in."

When Ron crossed the threshold into Luna Lovegood's abode, he wasn't at all sure what to expect, but he never would have pictured the apartment within. It was actually quite ordinary. Glittering Floo Powder sat in a tin above the fireplace and the magazines on the table included _Witch Weekly_, and of course, _The Quibbler_, but otherwise, the flat might've belonged to a Muggle, albeit one with very good taste.

Ron set the bottle of wine on what he took to be the dining table. When he turned back around, he saw that Luna had placed the rose behind her ear. Unable to think of anything else, Ron said, "So…"

Luna responded, "So, I thought we could get some take-away…"

Ron nodded, "Okay."

"Good, I know a _great _place," Luna said.

"Where is it?" Ron asked, preparing to Apparate.

"Oh, just down the street, come on!"

Ron was mildly surprised when Luna grabbed his hand and led him back out the door, but he wasn't the least bit inclined to drop her hand.

No, not the least bit.

-.-.-.-.-

"Down the street" turned out to be a few blocks, but Ron was totally fine with it. It was a beautiful, crisp night, the stars and moon shone brightly from the cosmos, and his hand was in Luna's. There was just one tiny parasite of guilt gnawing at his conscience, but for the time being, he could push it to the back of his mind, and be content.

After a few minutes of mostly silent walking, the pair found themselves outside a deceptively small restaurant with a sign above it proclaiming: **C.P. ****Weng's**Luna smiled and walked in, Ron followed. Inside was an endearing jumble of chairs and tables. Across the way, a counter dominated the wall. Behind this counter stood a jolly looking Chinese man wearing a stained apron and a thick pair of specs that made his eyes appear far too large for his face. Ron assumed he was Weng.

When Luna and Ron walked in, Weng's face split in a smile, "Luna!" He said happily. "The usual?" Then he spotted Ron. "And who is this?" he asked, still smiling.

"This is Ron, my uhm…"

_Old crush? __Adulterous love interest?_

"Friend," Luna said finally.

Ron nodded at Weng, "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," Weng replied merrily. "So, what'll it be?"

"Surprise me," said Luna.

Weng nodded and turned to the few chefs on duty, addressing them in harsh Chinese. This was followed by a flurry of orchestrated chaos which Weng oversaw, occasionally lending a skilled hand.

Luna and Ron sat down at a table to wait for their order. More to keep silence from stretching between them than anything else, Luna asked, "So what's Hermione up to?" and immediately wished she hadn't.

Ron's face clouded with what might have been guilt and was certainly sadness. Finally, Ron replied, "She's out with friends." The silence fell and this time Luna left it alone. A minute later, a grinning Weng handed them their meal and bid them good night. Ron was oblivious the sly wink Weng slipped Luna on their way out.

-.-.-.-.-

**Author's Note: **That's the second chapter today, so the next one might be awhile.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:** Blah, blah, it's been a while, blah, blah excuse, yadda, yadda apology.

**Disclaimer:** I'm but a poor, poor Harry Potter fan. All I own is this laptop….and the books!

**Previous Chapter** _A minute later, a grinning __Weng__ handed them their meal and bid them good night. Ron was oblivious__ of__ the sly wink __Weng__ slipped Luna on their way out._

The return walk was a pleasant one. Ron managed to start a conversation that wasn't halting or awkward, and as it progressed, they both loosened up. By the time they were back at Luna's, Ron was cracking jokes and sending both he and Luna into gales of laughter. Luckily, the good vibe continued through the meal. Soon Luna and Ron were giggling, gasping, and clapping each other on the back, looking for the entire world like a pair of children half their age. Ron was enjoying the company so much that he hadn't paid much attention to the food. Once he did, he found it was exceedingly good. He told Luna so and she replied, "Yea, it's really excellent. I'm lucky I found Weng's."

"Weng seemed pretty nice too," Ron pointed out.

"Oh, yea he is. Whenever I pick up an order, we talk, you know?" Then softly she added, "It gets lonely sometimes."

Once again, an uncomfortable silence settled on the two. Ron cast around desperately for something funny to say to break the silence and lift the mood, but nothing came to mind. Ron's eyes lighted on the fortune cookies and he grabbed one in the hope it would give him something to say. Ron cracked a cookie and popped half in his mouth as he read the fortune to himself.

"Anything good?" Luna asked.

Ron shrugged and read aloud, "You will be happy that you tried something new…in bed!" Then Ron gave in to a wave of belly-busting laughter. Luna's big blue eyes stared back at him full of an expression that was half confused, half amused. Ron tried to explain the inside joke through his laughter.

"It's something--" Gasp. "We used to do--" Snicker. "In school." Chuckle. Here Ron paused to gather himself, taking several deep breaths and wiping a tear from his eye. "All it is is adding the words "in bed" after a fortune, or I guess it could be anything really. It's kind of stupid…" Ron added at Luna's prolonged silence.

"It is," Luna agreed. But a moment later she too burst out laughing. She cracked open her own fortune and read between giggle fits, "People can change so proceed with caution…in bed!" Both she and Ron were sent into a gale of loud, raucous laughter. Ron was especially pleased because he knew Hermione would have never found that piece of doggerel funny.

At that moment, Hermione was just arriving at the home she shared with Ron. She had to rearrange the many, many shopping bags she carried (hey, he said to "have fun") to open the door but she managed. As the door c open, she called happily, "Ron? Where are you?" When she was met with nothing but an echoing silence, her hopeful smile slid off her face. "Ron?" she called again, but there was still no answer. Hermione gave a deeply saddened sigh. She had truly meant what she'd said earlier. It had been _ages_ since they'd done anything together. She just missed him. So much.

Hermione mentally shook herself, it was ridiculous to miss someone who you lived and worked in the same building with! But some small voice in the back of her head, the voice that always advised Hermione in her Hogwarts days insisted that Ron _was_ being distant. Hermione racked her brains but try as she might, she just could not figure out why.

_When __had it all__ began_ Hermione asked herself. She surprised herself when she realized she didn't know. Somewhere along the line, they'd just started to drift apart…But, thinking back, she realized there'd been a distinct change the day she'd bought the new sofa_. Could that be it? _No, she answered herself promptly, even Ron wasn't immature enough to avoid her and sulk over a _couch_. But then what was it? What was it that had changed between them? Hermione had no idea, all she knew was she wanted things to go back to the way they were. Back to when they were at Hogwarts and nothing mattered but each other. Here Hermione rolled her eyes. Now she had to go get all gushy and romantic. She gave herself another mental shake, but vowed to work harder to make their relationship work. Even if she had to tie Ron down and force him to spend time with her. Hermione grinned at the mental image, but the smile was short lived. She surveyed the house once more. Ron wasn't here with her, and that hurt. But then, where was he? She glanced at her watch. It was almost midnight, wherever he was, he should be back by now….

"I trust my husband," Hermione told herself firmly, then for good measure, she told herself again. On the third time, it came out sounding less like a statement and more like a question.

She had unpacked most of the shopping (which included a scarf for Ron and one…a couple…quite a few outfits for herself) and now came to the last bag at the bottom of which was a doggy-bag containing a slice of Ron's favorite combination pizza. She flicked her wand at it and felt it warm immediately. Then she set the slice on a plate for Ron to eat when he got back. As she sat down on the couch and turned on the TV, she told herself with, wavering confidence that he would be back any minute.

An hour later, Ron and Luna were lounging on Luna's couch (no vintage here, say thankya) chatting comfortably and sipping wine. Ron was enjoying himself far too much to glance at his watch. For that matter, so was Luna, but _Luna_ didn't have a wife waiting at home sad and lonely: _Ron_ did. If he had spared his watch a glance, he would have seen that it was nearly midnight, much later than Hermione had been expected back and much later than he should have been at a "friend's" place. But of course, Ron didn't look at his watch; not once.

Luna was in a similar situation, only the wine was having more of an effect on her. Ron was a veteran of many a post-Quidditch mach drinking binge and wild nights out with friends. The wine only left him feeling pleasantly warm. Luna, however had left warm and fuzzy behind quite a few glasses ago. She had skipped right past tipsy and was now completely, helplessly drunk.

Though Ron was thoroughly enjoying himself, he couldn't fail to notice her flushed face and slurred speech. She was an incredibly cute drunk, Ron thought. Ron continued on pouring on layer after layer of dry sarcasm and wit and looked on amused, as Luna's laughter became increasingly raucous and uncontrolled. After another of these giggle fits, Luna collapsed onto Ron and laid her head on his shoulder. She gazed up at Ron, all ruby cheeks and spell-binding sapphire eyes. For a very long moment, the two merely sat and stared into each other's eyes, in the kind of cheesy scene only a teenage-fangirl could write. The spell was broken however, when Luna hiccupped loudly. Ron smiled, and made a wry comment about Luna's totally flushed and breathless state. Luna replied by playfully slapping Ron's arm and saying, "You're jush too funny!"

Ron replied, "I think it has a little less to do with my jokes and a little more to do with the--", he was cut off, however by a snore. He looked down shocked to find that Luna had fallen asleep on his shoulder. "Wine," he finished smiling softly. Very slowly and very carefully, he picked her up and, holding her in his arms "newly-wed style" he navigated her flat searching for her bedroom.

It didn't take Ron long to find it, the apartment was small, but not cramped. Homey he supposed. Even in the dark, Ron could tell that Luna's room show-cased her unique personality more than the rest of her place. The walls were practically papered with Quibbler articles and several exotic ornaments adorned her bedside table. He did not, however notice a picture of himself smiling and waving out of a picture of the D.A. sitting on Luna's desk. The old photograph was ornately framed; it was one of her most prized possessions.

He set her on the bed as gently as possible but she stirred in her sleep and awoke and blinked up groggily at him. As Ron's features came into focus, she asked, "Is this a dream?" Ron thought a moment before replying, "It might be." Luna nodded contentedly as Ron took off her shoes and tucked her into bed. Ron straightened, murmured a goodnight, and turned to leave before things could….get out of hand, but Luna called out, "Wait!" Ron turned back around to have his eyes meet determined blue. Half a moment later, her lips were on his in a quick, soft, questioning kiss.

For a moment, Ron responded to the kiss, pressing back gently against her sweet, soft lips. But then an image flashed in his mind, burning quick but unbelievably vivid, of him kissing his _wife_ on a couch the very same way not a week before. "Believe me, there's nowhere else I'd rather be." Those were the words he'd said as he kissed her. Hermione. His wife. Surely he meant them. One word was seared into his brain: wife.

Yes, his wife. _Hermione._ The woman he'd loved since he was thirteen. The woman he was sworn to protect, cherish and honor. _Not_ Luna. All this flashed through Ron's mind in the moment Luna's lips met Ron's. A split second later, he pulled back as if he'd been burned, eyes wide and scared. Of what, he didn't really know. Luna seemed puzzled as she gazed up at him hazily. Ron couldn't face her, he felt suddenly dirty, filthy, dishonest. He did the only thing he could think to do; he ran.

To Be Continued...Dun dun DUNNNNN!!!

Author's Note: Blah, blah, it's been a while, blah, blah excuse, yadda, yadda apology.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** I _wish _ I owned Harry Potter.

**Previous Chapter: **_Luna seemed puzzled as she gazed up at him hazily. Ron couldn't face her, he felt suddenly dirty, filthy, dishonest. He did the only thing he could think to do; he ran._

_**Chapter 11**_

Ron didn't know where to go or what to do. Part of him wanted to go straight to Hermione and bare his soul and ask forgiveness. Part of him just wanted to run away and pretend nothing ever happened. And an embarrassingly large part of him wanted to return to Luna's flat.

Ron ended up Apparating to Harry's out of pure habit more than anything. A second later, he was outside Harry and Ginny's house. He hesitated with his hand half-way to the knocker before rapping his hand sharply on the oak wood. A voice that appeared to come from the door itself said, "Who the blazed is calling at this time of night?"

Ron glared half-heartedly at the door, for once sans a witty rejoinder.

Surprisingly quickly, the door swung open to reveal Harry Potter tousle-haired and pajama-clad. He looked to be half-awake at best, attempting to stifle a huge yawn. Ron either did not notice or did not care. He started right in without preamble.

"Harry, I messed up."

Harry blinked groggily and yawned again. "You did something bad?" he asked, thinking that anything short of murder could wait until the morning.

"No, well yes. Something _wrong._ And I knew it was wrong, but it felt right at the time and now I just feel so _wrong._"

Harry stared at his best-friend blankly. They'd been through a lot together, and Harry was more than willing to help, but at a _sane _hour. "Look mate," he said, "Maybe you should talk to Hermione about this."

Apparently that was not the best thing to say. Ron's eyes widened in what could have been fright. Gesturing wildly, Ron stated, "NO! No, no, no, no. I can_not_ talk to Hermione about this."

Harry favored Ron with a look that was two parts sleepy and one part confused, "What? Why? What did you even _do_?"

"I…"Ron's voice and manic energy faltered, and then he said in a strange voice, "I gotta go. Thanks Harry."

Just like that, Ron turned on his heel and Apparated away. Harry shut the door behind him and muttered, "Glad I could help."

Ginny's voice came floating up the hallway. "Harry? Who _was_ that?"

"Just a crazy person, dear," Harry replied as he shuffled sleepily back to bed.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When Hermione heard the distinct "pop" of Apparition, she looked up from the book she was reading. She had picked it up to calm her nerves. It had failed miserably. Thoughts of Ron and his distant attitude of late plagued her mind and kept her from focusing on anything else. But now it appeared Ron was back and Hermione was sure he'd have a reasonable explanation for why he was acting so different and where he'd been and everything would be alright again. Hermione almost laughed in relief; Ron was back and everything would be okay.

"Ron?" she called, rushing down the hall. "Ron, is that you?" She could see him now, just coming in, closing the door behind him. She ran down the stairs and wrapped him in a hug from behind. The way Ron turned around and rested his chin on her shoulder, Hermione never saw his haunted eyes or disheveled countenance. She did, however notice that he was dressed rather formally and with her head burrowed in his neck, she smelled something. Perfume maybe? Certainly not hers: it was far too exotic. But Hermione thought nothing of it. She held him at arm's length, beaming. Hermione didn't know it, but even this small act added to the guilt sluggishly bubbling in his gut.

To escape the feeling, even momentarily, Ron shrugged Hermione's arms off him and headed up the stairs without a word. His wife shouldn't be so happy to see him; he didn't deserve it. Hermione mistook this for another brush-off and followed him upstairs, cheerful mood already dissolving.

"Where have you been?" Hermione asked off-handedly, hoping a direct question might start a conversation. Ron took this the wrong way.

Whipping around sharply, he asked, "Why do you care where I've been? You don't trust me?" _Because you shouldn't_ Ron added to himself.

Hermione looked hurt as she replied, "No, I trust you. I was just curious…" but Ron had already turned away from her and was stalking down the hall. Hermione followed.

By the time she had reached their shared room, Ron was half-undressed, clothes lying haphazard on the floor wherever he'd thrown them. Usually, Hermione would scold him to pick them up but she sensed something was different tonight. She didn't like it at all. So much for everything being alright…

She quietly climbed into bed, a moment later she felt Ron slip in too. She rolled over to face him, hoping they might discuss whatever was bothering him, but he faced resolutely away from her. Hermione's face fell. She was about to roll over and cast Nox when something caught her sharp eyes.

Squinting, she reached out to Ron and plucked something off his shoulder. She stared at it, confused and knowing at the same time.

It was a single strand of long, blonde hair.

**Author's Note:** I apologize for the wait; the next one won't be as long if I get reviews…


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: **This chapter is for Nora Leslie, who gave me the nudge I needed.

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, I don't own it.

**Previous Chapter:**_Squinting, she reached out to Ron and plucked something off his shoulder. She stared at it, confused and knowing at the same time._

_It was a single strand of long, blonde hair._

The next few days wore Hermione out like a pair of cheap shoes. She kept up appearances of course, going through the motions of her daily life, but on the inside she was falling apart.

Hermione was on autopilot. Some deeply ingrained part of her mind took over and got her ready in the morning, kissed Ron on the cheek, sorted through paper work and Apparated her home, but Hermione wasn't _really_ doing any of this. Hermione was _really_ curled up in bed screaming into a pillow, or that's how it felt to her.

Now she knew why Ron had been acting so distant, but she'd never been more confused.

_Who? When? How long? _And the hardest question to ask,

Hermione knew she shouldn't blame herself, that kind of thinking could only cause grief and self-doubt, but she couldn't help it, a tiny voice inside her screamed that it must be her fault.

_Had she done something wrong?_

_Had she neglected to do something important? _

_Did __she__---NO!_

At this point, she'd invariably stop herself, thinking no matter what she'd done or forgotten to do, Ron did _not _have the right to do what he did. And as if to emphasize the fates' twisted sense of humor Ron attitude had suddenly turned a 180⁰. All of a sudden, he was attentive, considerate, and omnipresent. Whenever Hermione turned around, there he was, asking if she was okay, if there was anything he could do, kissing her and holding her hand for no reason at all. He was driving her insane!

What had caused his abrupt change of heart? Was he just so happy with whoever he was seeing on the side that it'd over-flowed into their relationship? Was he being so kind out of some kind of plea for forgiveness? To soften the blow when she told her? Would he ever tell her? Was there anything to tell? Perhaps she had jumped to conclusions and Ron had never done anything unfaithful. Hermione clung to this possibility, but the larger, more logical part of her knew that was highly unlikely.

Back and forth she'd go, teetering on the verge of confronting Ron. Then she'd decide to keep it to herself, although she longed to tell someone, _anyone_! Then she'd go back to the beginning and begin the whole maddening circle again.

Her conflicting emotions were so strong and so completely antipodean that they threatened to tear her in two. So far, she'd managed to keep it together purely through stubbornness, she just refused to break down. But it was elementary physics, with so much negative building up eventually the pressure had to be released. Like a balloon inflated past its limit, Hermione would explode; it was only a matter of time…

As it happened, the imminent break-down occurred just a week later…

Hermione was shopping in Diagon Alley. Her potions stores had run low and there were a few things from Dervish and Banges she wanted to try out. She'd seized the opportunity to be out of the house and away from Ron. ("Do you want me to go with you, dear?" "No, Ron I'll be fine.")She was alone with her thoughts for once. As she was leaving the apothecary, head down and collar up against the gusting wind, she'd spotted Luna Lovegood in the crowd, coming from the opposite direction. She smiled and waved politely, though lacking certain energy. Luna smiled and waved back.

Hermione continued on her way for a moment longer, then realization hit her with the force of the Hogwarts Express. Eyes wide, jaw slack, she whirled around and stared at Luna's retreating back, her long blonde hair blowing wildly in the wind…

Ron didn't know what to feel anymore. He felt guilty that he'd kissed Luna (or had she kissed him? Did it matter?). He felt sorry that he'd lied to his wife. He felt bad because he was guilty and sorry, and though he didn't like to admit it even to himself, he felt sad that he hadn't seen Luna in a while. Selyna had stopped by his house with quite a few letters since that day, but Ron couldn't bring himself to even read them, afraid that his resolve would falter and disappear if he so much as saw her hand-writing. He threw them away unopened. He felt bad about that too.

Ron threw all his effort into Hermione. He privately vowed to be a better husband, doing tiny favors, big favors and showing public displays of affection. It was almost to the point, Ron thought, where it might be annoying to Hermione. He had no idea.

Ron knew he really ought to tell Hermione what he'd done, but he was too afraid. He had convinced himself that if he came clean, Hermione would be devastated, repulsed, as she had a right to be. That she'd never trust him again, and their relationship would never be the same. Thinking these thoughts kept him from confessing, as he firmly believed it would do more harm than good. Instead, he worked to do better, to get back in Hermione's good graces, so that when…if… he ever told her it'd soften the blow?

Ron didn't know what to think either.

Ron could only think of one way to organize his thoughts and feelings so he could at least understand them, short of writing them down in a poncy diary. He did what he always did when he'd done something stupid and couldn't go to Hermione.

He called up Harry.

Since his fourth year, Ron had become almost proficient at using a felly-tone; he'd almost come to _like_ them. Although, to his wizard mind, a floo-call would always be the best way to communicate if not face to face, muggles had stumbled upon something very cool in the felly-tone. Very cool indeed.

Ron thought for a moment to recall Harry and Ginny's number (no need for silly numbers if you're flooing, Ron thought), then he dialed and waited for someone to pick up.

"Potter residence," Ginny's voice said through the phone.

"Merlin, it'll always be weird to hear you say that."

"Well, better get used to it."

"I'll try. Is Harry there?"

"What? You didn't call to catch up with your lil sis? I'm offended!"

"Yea whatever, just give him the phone."

Ron practically _heard_ Ginny roll her eyes, but a few seconds later, Harry's voice came on the line.

"What did you do _this_ time?"

Thankfully, Harry couldn't see Ron's blush. Ron nervously laughed it off and said, "How long has it been since I took you out for a drink?"

"What's today, the Second?" Harry took a few seconds to pretend to count. "Almost five months."

Ron genuinely chuckled and said, "Meet me at the Three Broomsticks in ten. I've got something to tell you."

Harry started to ask, "What--," but Ron hung up and cut him off.

Harry sighed.

"What'd he do _this_ time?" Ginny asked without looking up from her magazine.

"I'm about to find out," Harry replied as he summoned his coat and Apparated away.

.-.-.-.-.-.

**Author's Note:** Review. If you liked it if you hated it. Review.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: **Nope, can't sue me, cuz I don't own it.

**Author's Note: **Yo check it. Two chapters in a week, that is if you call this a chapter. It's totally out of order, written as the thoughts came to my head. It's more like a collection of tid-bits that _have _to be written about before this story can go on. But in any case, here's another update. And you can thank **Khophey**and **tasuku****-sempai** whose lovely reviews are the reason I'm updating.

**Previous Chapter: **_"What'd he do __this__ time?" Ginny asked without looking up from her magazine._

_"I'm about to find out," Harry replied as he summoned his coat and __Apparated__ away._

_**Loveseat Chapter 13**_

Luna Lovegood normally woke up feeling refreshed and revitalized. On this particular morning, she awoke feeling…dead. Her head was pounding and her mouth felt wretched. _What __did I _do_ last night? _Luna asked herself. Sitting up, she groggily ran a hand through her messy hair and felt something odd. She pulled it away in her hand: it was a red rose.

Suddenly, images poured into her mind. Memories, she now remembered from the previous night.

_Ron on her doorstep, flowers in hand._

_Ron holding her hand as they walked under a starlit sky._

_Ron laughing and smiling while they ate._

_Ron leaning in and…_

Luna's sleep-muddled eyes flew wide open in realization. She groaned and slapped a hand to her forehead. _What did I _do?

Luna fell back onto her pillows and flipped her covers over her head, as if she could hide from the answer, as if she could hide from the world. Luna was just content to lie in her cocoon of covers and pretend that last night hadn't happened.

When Ron squeezed into the bustling bar at the Three Broomsticks, Harry was already there sipping a Butterbeer and chatting with Madam Rosmerta. Ron mentally thanked whoever was listening for giving him such good friends and wondered what he'd ever done to deserve them. He navigated his way through tables and chairs, finally sitting heavily on the stool next to Harry.

"There you are, mate!" Harry said. Ron managed a smile and a nod.

Harry turned to Rosmerta, "A Butterbeer for Ron." Ron cut across though. "Actually could I get a Firewhiskey? Make that a double."

Harry's eyebrows shot up. He asked expectantly, "So…what was so important that I _had _to meet you here?"

"Oh, uhm…" Ron faltered. A few minutes ago, he'd been desperate to confess what he'd done to someone, now he'd rather keep it to himself. "Did you hear about the Cannons match?" Ron said finally.

Harry gave him a look. The kind of look you can only get from someone who knows you almost better than you do. "I know you didn't haul me down here to talk about Quidditch. Spill; What's _really_ going on?"

Ron sighed. He was going to have to confess anyway. Warily looking around at the crowded bar, Ron leaned in and whispered something into Harry's ear. A second later, Harry stood up from the bar, choking on his drink and sputtering, "You did _what_?!"

"Shut up and sit down!" Ron hissed. One of the downsides to being best friends with Harry Potter was that people stared at you pretty much wherever you went. All through the Three Broomsticks, people were now staring interestedly, not bothering to even pretend they were minding their own business.

Harry collected himself a bit and sat back down. Questions were clamoring in his head, begging for release.

_Why would you do this?_

_Why would__ you do this__ to Hermione_

_Who did you do it with?_

"When did this start?" He asked. Ron knocked back a shot of his drink and said, "Remember that Saturday Hermione and I went furniture shopping…"

When Hermione returned from her shopping trip, the house was thankfully empty. She called Ron's name to be sure. When there was no answer, she threw herself onto their couch and did something she hadn't done in months.

She cried.

She was so confused. Emotions were bubbling inside her like a boiling potion in a cauldron. _Grief, loneliness, anger, jealousy__… _She had to talk to someone or she'd explode. Hermione summoned the phone and called the first number that came to mind.

Ginny Potter watched her husband Disapparate away and turned back to her mildly interesting magazine article. A few minutes later however, the phone rang yet again. Ginny rose from her seat and answered it.

"Ginny?" It sounded quiet and hoarse, but Ginny would know Hermione's voice anywhere.

"Hermione? What's wrong?" Over the years, Ginny had become increasingly aware of Hermione's emotions, even though she tried so hard to be unreadable, now Ginny could tell right away something was up.

"What's wrong?" Hermione repeated. "Maybe nothing, maybe everything. Gin, I need you to come over. Please?"

"I'm on my way." Ginny hung up the phone and snatched her jacket off its stand. She Disapparated away a moment later, wondering what it was that could make Hermione so upset.

Ginny appeared on Hermione's doorstep a second later. Any other day, she would have walked right on in, but remembering the way Hermione had sounded on the phone, she stopped and rapped her knuckles on the door first. "Hermione?" she called. "Hermione it's me, Ginny!" Ginny knocked on the door again. When a minute later, no one answered the door, Ginny pressed her ear up against it. She heard barely stifled sobs.

Ginny whipped out her wand and pointed it at the door. "Alohomora!" she said. The lock clicked and the door swung open. Ginny rushed in closing the door behind her. "Hermione?" she yelled, but she didn't have to look far: Hermione was sitting in the front room, face in her hands, sobbing hysterically. Without having time to ponder this very un-Hermione like behavior, Ginny crossed the room and sat down next to her, wrapping her arms around her friend.

"Hermione," she said firmly but gently, "Tell me what's wrong."

"Ginny," she managed to say through her sobs, "I think I'm losing him."

**Author's Note:** So there you have it, whatever 'it' is. Question: how do you insert a line into a Word Document so that it separates the text? It's probably something really simple and I'm just retarded but all I know how to do is type and save so…

I've said it before and I'll say it again: review. When people do that I tend to update… ;)


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